The Things We Lost
by The King's Soldier
Summary: "Their innocence has been stripped away, and it can never be reclaimed." The immediate aftermath of 2x08. Clarke's warring emotions lead to a fight with her mother that threatens their fragile relationship, the Blake siblings try to stay strong for Clarke and each other, and Abby finally realizes just how much the surviving members of the 100 have truly lost.


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: While we wait for season two to continue, I decided to write my own version of how some of the main characters might deal with the immediate fallout of Finn's death, particularly our favorite princess. The next episode will probably turn this into a slight AU, but that's fine by me. I'm still not entirely happy with it. It feels like it's missing something somehow. But I've spent two days trying to figure out exactly what that is and no luck, so I'm just going to go ahead and post it. Hopefully you guys like it. The short lyrics below come from the song "Dead Hearts" by Stars, which I think goes perfectly with the journey of the 100. It also provided a lot of my inspiration for Clarke and Abby's parts of this story, so I decided to put a snippet of it here. So if you haven't heard it, you should give it a listen. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>The Things We Lost<strong>

"_They were kids that I once knew.  
>Now they're all dead hearts to you."<br>-Stars_

_I am become death. _

That's all Clarke can think as she walks back toward the gates of Camp Jaha. She knows that somehow she's putting one foot in front of the other, but none of it really registers. It's as if life has suddenly ground to a halt and all that exists is the steady trudge onward. She remembers Finn's head falling against her shoulder, remembers someone screaming in the night. Probably Raven. But everything after that is a blur. She knows that she spoke to Lexa, and some part of her vaguely remembers what was said. But besides that, her mind is completely blank except for the sole phrase repeating over and over.

_I am become death. _

She can still feel the knife in her hand even though she knows she dropped it some time ago. But she can't feel the blood anymore, and that bothers her for some inexplicable reason. She should be able to feel it. Hell, she should be able to feel anything at all. There should be a searing pain in her chest. She should be on the ground sobbing like Raven. Not walking calmly toward the gate. There was pain for a moment. For one blink it was so intense Clarke thought she was going to literally break apart. But now she can't feel anything. It's like the hurt was too much and her brain just completely switched off to keep from feeling it. Like she wasn't capable of processing it. Which she isn't. Finn is dead. And she killed him.

_I am become death, the destroyer of worlds._

The gate to Camp Jaha swings open and Clarke walks through. There is a buzz of hushed conversation at first, and then suddenly everything falls deathly quiet. Everyone is staring at her, but no one is saying anything. It's like they're all holding their breath, waiting to see how she will react. Treating her like a cornered animal.

"Clarke," Abby says, coming forward with her arms open. There are tears in her eyes. Then she stops and her eyes widen. "You're bleeding."

Clarke glances down in mild surprise. She had forgotten about walking into the spear.

"I've had worse," she says, even as Abby reaches out to inspect the wound. And she has. The gash she tore open to get into Mount Weather's sick bay was far worse than this. It's barely even bleeding now. The rest of the blood on her is Finn's. She can feel an ache beginning in her chest at the thought of him, but she quickly pushes it down.

"Let me take a look at it," Abby insists.

"I'm fine," Clarke says, pushing her hand away.

"Clarke," Abby begins forcefully. The ache in Clarke's chest is getting stronger. She can't do this now. Not with everyone watching. She has to keep going, has to stay focused.

"The Grounders are going to have a banquet tonight," Clarke says quickly, cutting her mother off. "To celebrate the alliance. We're supposed to go."

Abby hesitates, confused by the abrupt change of subject. Clarke quickly plows on.

"We won't discuss the war until tomorrow," she says flatly. "But we should have a meeting now and figure out our terms so we're ready to negotiate."

"We?" Abby asks curiously.

"You, Kane and I," Clarke says in a firm voice that leaves no room for discussion. "Major Byrne should be there too. She knows the most about the guard. She might have some ideas."

"Clarke, you don't need to do this," Abby says gently.

"Those are my people we're going to rescue," Clarke tells her. Her eyes lock with Abby's, refusing to back down. "Mine. Not yours."

"Clarke," Kane says, trying to diffuse the tension. Clarke quickly cuts him off.

"I'm the one who got us a truce with the Grounders," she says coldly. "I figured out how to save Lincoln. I did what had to be done." What she did was kill Finn, but she can't quite bring herself to say it out loud. Not yet. "I'm the one their commander respects. So you are not just going to box me out again like an ignorant child while you make all the decisions."

Abby hesitates, and Clarke can feel everyone around them holding their breath. Clarke has never pushed back this hard. For a moment she worries that her mother will argue and this will turn into a full-on power struggle. But then Abby's shoulders sag.

"Okay," she whispers in defeat.

"Okay," Clarke says. She turns and looks around at the people still standing there. They're all staring at her, but she hardly notices. What she does notice is the absence of her co-leader. "Where's Bellamy?"

"With Raven," Abby says. "He didn't want her here when you came back."

"Good idea," Clarke admits. Raven will probably want to kill her when she finally recovers from the shock. And Clarke doesn't blame her.

Major Byrne is standing nearby, carefully watching the proceedings. Clarke turns toward her now in full command mode.

"I need you to find Bellamy and Octavia and bring them to the council room," she says. She turns back to her mother. "I want them there too."

Major Byrne glances questioningly at Abby, who nods. Only then does the major move. It irks Clarke to no end that these people still view her as a child who can't possibly be in charge. She's been in actual combat more times than all of the Ark survivors put together. But there isn't time to deal with that right now. Instead she steps around her mother and heads into the ship with Abby and Kane hurrying after her.

"Clarke, wait!" Abby calls.

"We can't afford to wait any longer," Clarke retorts over her shoulder. She steps into the ship and heads straight for the makeshift council room. "We've left the others in Mount Weather long enough."

She reaches the council room a moment later with her mother right behind her. But then Abby turns in the doorway and holds up her hand, stopping Kane from following her.

"Give us a minute," Abby says. Kane seems to understand because he steps back out, closing the door behind him.

"What was that about?" Clarke asks, stopping beside the table. "Let him in."

"We have to talk about what happened out there," Abby says as she comes over to the table. "About Finn."

"We don't have time for this," Clarke scoffs.

"You can't just ignore it," Abby tells her. She takes a step around the table toward her daughter, but Clarke pulls back with a violent shake of her head.

"No," she says fiercely. "We are not doing this right now. We don't have time-"

"Clarke, a boy just died," Abby says in a maddeningly calm voice. "A boy you loved."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Clarke demands. "I'm the one that killed him!"

"You did what you had to do," Abby tells her with a sympathetic look.

"You're right," Clarke says coldly, throwing up her hands in seeming surrender. "I did. I did what had to be done because that's what I do. I do the things nobody else will. Well, guess what? I'm tired of it! I'm tired of always doing what has to be done! I'm tired of trying to keep everyone else alive! I'm tired of having to kill people to protect us! I'm eighteen, Mom! And I have already killed three hundred people! Three hundred! And I did it because that's what had to be done!"

"Clarke," Abby begins. There is sympathy shining in her eyes, but Clarke is having none of it. The floodgates have opened, and now she can't seem to stop herself.

"No, you don't get to talk anymore!" she shouts, holding up a hand to stop her mother. "This is your fault. You and the rest of the council. You sent us down here to die!"

"We sent you down here to give you a second chance," Abby argues.

"You sent us because we were expendable!" Clarke counters. "You sent us to make sure the ground was safe for the people who actually mattered!"

"That is not true," Abby says fiercely. She takes another two steps around the table with her pointer finger raised, but Clarke refuses to back down.

"You sent us into a potentially toxic environment with no protection and no back-up," she continues. "We were kids, Mom! We had no idea what we were doing! We didn't know how to survive down here! We were completely unprepared! And half of us died because of it!"

"It was either risk your lives down here or float you all to conserve oxygen," Abby tells her. "When the decision was made to send the hundred down, we thought-"

"No!" Clarke yells. "We are not just 'the hundred!' We're real people that you sent down here! We have faces! Lives! Names! The kids trapped in Mount Weather have names! The kids who died have names! Wells. Charlotte. Atom. Roma. Connor, Myles, Sterling, Dax. They are not just numbers! They were people! Real people! People who died because you sent us down here!"

"You're right," Abby says, trying to stay calm. "It wasn't fair to you. To any of you. What we did to you was inexcusable. But the Ark was dying, Clarke. We had to find a solution. We gambled with your lives, and we had no right. But we couldn't just sit on our hands and let everyone die. We had to try. So we chose to risk a few lives on the chance that maybe we could save the rest."

"You chose to save yourselves," Clarke says bitterly. The pain in her eyes breaks Abby's heart. "Everything that has happened to us down here, everything that we have done, everything that we have become, that is all your fault."

"You're right," Abby repeats wearily. She leans back against the table, bracing herself with her arms. Then she sighs, and suddenly she looks to Clarke infinitely older than she really is. When she looks up, the strong leader is gone, leaving behind a tired woman. "Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones. But you still have to choose. Just like you did tonight."

Clarke turns away with a shake of her head as if not looking will stop Abby from talking.

"You made the same choice we did," Abby continues, undeterred. "You chose to make a sacrifice to protect the larger group. It's not an easy choice. But it was the right one."

"I guess you know all about making sacrifices," Clarke says sarcastically as she turns back around. "You had your own husband floated for rocking the boat too much."

Abby looks as if she's been slapped. But Clarke doesn't care. This particular argument has been a long time coming, and she's so emotionally raw right now that she really doesn't care how much her words hurt.

"That is not what happened," Abby says defensively.

"You turned him in to Jaha!" Clarke presses. "You knew what would happen to him!"

"Thelonious was supposed to talk him down," Abby insists.

"Right," Clarke says drily.

"Clarke, I swear, I had no idea Thelonious would float him," Abby says. "He was my friend. And your father's. I never dreamed he would go that far."

Her eyes are pleading with Clarke to understand. But this wound has been left unattended too long, and now Clarke is determined to have it out.

"If you two are such good friends, then why didn't you stop him from floating Dad?" Clarke counters. "Or better yet, why didn't you ask him not to send me to the ground? I'm sure he wouldn't have minded pulling a few strings for a friend." She spits the last word out as if it burns her mouth. "Or did you just not care what happened to me?"

"Clarke, I-" Abby pushes herself off the table, determined to explain, but Clarke doesn't give her the time.

"If you hadn't sent me down here, I never would have met Finn," Clarke accuses. "He never would have gone out looking for me. He never would've shot up that village! If I hadn't come down, Finn would still be alive!"

"You don't know that," Abby says softly. She shakes her head, her expression pained.

"Yes, I do," Clarke tells her. She takes a step forward until she is toe-to-toe with her mother. Her face is darker than Abby has ever seen it. "Dad never would've let any of this happen."

"Your father is dead," Abby says flatly. She has tried to be good about this, but she's quickly running out of compassion.

"Because of you," Clarke accuses. Angry tears are welling in her eyes, and she has to blink them back. She forces words out one after another, her voice rising as she goes. "This is all because you. That massacre happened because of you. Finn died because of you. I am a killer because of you! Dad is dead because of you!"

"I may have played a part, but I am not the only one to blame here," Abby counters strongly. "I did not make Finn kill those people. I did not kill him-"

"You were willing to give him up," Clarke retorts.

"-and I certainly did not kill your father," Abby continues, ignoring the interruption.

"No," Clarke says coldly. "You just stood there and watched."

"I tried to save him," Abby says. There are tears in her own eyes now, and her voice is shaking ever so slightly. "Believe me, I tried."

"Not hard enough," Clarke tells her. She sets her jaw and looks her mother straight in the face. "I wish they had floated you instead of him."

Before Abby even realizes what she's done, her hand has come up and slapped Clarke hard across the face. Clarke's head jerks to the side, her own hand coming up to cradle her cheek. Then she looks up, her eyes shining with tears that are on the verge of escaping. Abby's own eyes widen in shock as the action slowly sinks in.

"I'm so sorry," she says quickly. She stretches out her hand, but Clarke pulls back out of reach. Abby quickly retracts her hand as if afraid of hurting her daughter again. "Clarke, I didn't mean..."

Clarke takes two slow steps over to the wall and leans against it as if she's too shocked to support her own weight. Abby continues to stand frozen, completely aghast at her own actions. She's never hit her daughter before. Ever. She leans back against the table and just stares, her lips parted slightly as if searching for words they can't find. The flood of emotions that fueled her outburst has completely vanished, leaving her feeling completely drained.

A noise causes her to look to her left. Clarke has slid down the wall and is sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest. Her hands are resting atop her bowed head, her elbows supported by her knees.

"I'm so sorry," Abby tells her. It's barely more than a whisper, a desperate plea for forgiveness. The only answer she receives is a sniff from Clarke's crumpled form. It's quickly follow by another.

"Clarke?" Abby asks worriedly. She pushes herself away from the table and walks carefully over to her daughter, kneeling down on the floor beside her. She reaches out her hand, but then hesitates briefly before finally resting it gently on Clarke's knee. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

Clarke shakes her head and Abby falls silent in confusion. Then Clarke lifts her head, lowering her arms so she can see her mother. Her face is streaked with tears that are still falling. Abby can feel her heart tearing right down the middle at the sight of it.

"It's my fault," Clarke chokes. Abby shakes her head, reaching out to run her hand through her daughter's hair. But Clarke keeps on going. "He was looking for me. He killed those people because of me. And I killed..."

She presses a hand to her mouth as she trails off into a small sob, unable to continue.

"It's not your fault," Abby says. There are tears welling in her own eyes, and she can barely talk around the sudden lump in her throat.

"Yes, it is!" Clarke insists brokenly. "It's my fault! I killed him!"

She holds up her hand covered in Finn's dried blood as proof. Abby reaches out and takes Clarke's hand in her own, squeezing it tight.

"You saved him," Abby corrects as she continues running her free hand through Clarke's matted hair. Clarke shakes her head, choking on her own sobs and shaking free more tears that run down her cheeks.

"I loved him," she whimpers. "I loved him, and I killed him. He's dead because of me!"

Abby can't take it anymore. She reaches out and pulls Clarke into her arms.

"It's not your fault, sweetheart," she insists. Her voice is thick with emotion. Clarke leans against her, weeping brokenly into her shoulder. Abby holds her daughter as tightly as she can manage. She can feel her own tears threatening to break free, but she blinks them back. Clarke needs her to be strong right now.

"I killed him," Clarke repeats. Her voice is muffled by Abby's shirt and her own sobs. "I killed him."

"Shhh," Abby chokes. She tucks Clarke's head under her chin and begins to rock them both gently back and forth. "I know, baby. I know."

And she does. She knows how much it hurts to let the man she loves die to save everyone else. She understands the guilt and agony all too well. But for Clarke to have killed Finn with her own hands... Abby tightens her arms around her sobbing daughter. Hasn't Clarke been through enough already? It's not fair. If Kane were in here, he would tell Abby that life isn't fair. And it isn't.

But it should be.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Bellamy's sitting in medical beside a sleeping Raven when Major Byrne shows up. She's brief and to the point, telling him only that there's a meeting in the council room and Clarke wants he and Octavia both there. Monroe happens to be in medical getting some painkillers for her leg, so Bellamy asks her to stay with Raven in case she wakes up. Then he heads over to the room where Lincoln is being kept. Octavia is sitting by the bed holding Lincoln's hand and they're talking in quiet, worried tones about something, but they both look up when Bellamy comes in. Octavia immediately releases Lincoln's hand and stands up.

"Bell," she says worriedly. She crosses the room and wraps her arms tightly around his neck. Bellamy hugs her back, pressing his face into her hair and letting himself drown briefly in the knowledge that she at least is safe. Then Octavia pulls away and looks up at him. Only then does Bellamy notice her red eyes.

"We heard about Finn," Octavia says, her gaze desperately searching his face for something. "They're saying Clarke killed him. Is it true?"

"Yeah," Bellamy says. His shoulders sag further as the words leave his mouth. Octavia's mouth falls open in stunned silence. "O, what they would've done to him-"

"I know," Octavia says, cutting him off. "Clarke did what she had to do."

"Our leader will respect that decision," Lincoln says. It's clear from his wrinkled forehead that he's not happy about Finn's death, but he's trying to be rational about it.

Octavia turns away for a moment, running a hand over her hair as she tries to process.

"How's Raven?" she asks as she turns back around.

"Bad," Bellamy says simply. "They gave her something to knock her out. I didn't want her attacking Clarke."

"How is Clarke?" Octavia asks with a pained expression.

"I don't know," Bellamy admits. "She's in the council room with Kane and her mom. They're talking about the alliance. She wants us both there."

Octavia nods, but she doesn't move. It's as if the words haven't quite registered yet.

"Go," Lincoln says. His voice pulls Octavia to the present and she looks over at him. Lincoln motions his head at the door.

"I'll be back," Octavia tells him. Lincoln just nods. Ever the man of few words.

Bellamy waits for his sister to step over to him before turning around and heading back through the rest of medical. Octavia shakes her head as they step out into the metal corridor beyond. There are a few guards moving about, but most of the civilians present in the halls are huddled together in tight groups and talking in hushed whispers. The furtive glances they cast toward Bellamy and Octavia make it clear exactly what they're all talking about.

"I can't believe he's gone," Octavia says quietly as they walk down the hallway.

"Me neither," Bellamy says quietly.

"And Clarke…" Octavia trails off, shaking her head again. "This must be killing her."

"She's gonna need us," Bellamy says by way of agreement.

"What about you?" Octavia says. She stops and turns to face him, forcing him to stop as well. "How are you doing?"

"One of our own just died," Bellamy says quietly. Octavia reaches over and takes his hand in hers. She knows he's hurting. They both are. But they also both know that they need to focus on the task at hand. There will be time to grieve later.

"I'll be better once I have somebody to shoot at," Bellamy tells her with a shrug. He looks down at the floor, using the toe of his shoe to rearrange a small mud stain. "Once we get our people back. That's what Finn died for. So that we could save them."

"We will," Octavia says. She gives his hand a firm squeeze before letting go.

"I know," Bellamy says. His shoulders seem a little straighter now. He looks around at the metal walls surrounding them and sighs. "We should go. We need to start planning."

"For Finn," Octavia says.

"For Finn," Bellamy agrees.

They turn together and continue walking side by side down the ship.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Clarke doesn't cry for long. Even in this much pain, she can still feel the pressure of time pushing down on her. Her people are still trapped in Mount Weather and she needs to start planning a way to save them. So she forces herself to pull away from her mother's protective arms and wipe the tears from her face. Abby watches her with a worried expression. Only then, as she looks into her mother's reddened eyes, does Clarke realize that Abby was crying too.

And then the harsh words she spoke hit her like a crashing spacecraft.

"I'm sorry," she says. Her voice is rough from crying. She looks down at the ends of her sleeves and tugs on them she doesn't have to meet her mother's eyes.

"It's okay," Abby says, laying a hand on her arm.

"No, it's not," Clarke says with a shake of her head. She reaches up and wipes her eyes with the palms of her hands. "I shouldn't have talked to you like that."

"You were hurting," Abby says in maddening understanding. "Besides, we both said things we shouldn't have."

"What I said about Dad," Clarke says softly. For the first time since pulling away, she forces herself to look up at her mother. "About wishing you were dead. I didn't mean that."

"I know," Abby whispers. She looks away for a moment before letting out a heavy breath. "Clarke, what happened to your father... I didn't know Thelonious was going to float him, I swear. I thought he could talk your father down. Keep him from defying the council and getting himself killed. I was trying to protect him, Clarke. If I had known how it was going to turn out, I never would've said anything."

"I know," Clarke says. She lays her own hand over her mother's to show that she really does understand.

"I live with that guilt every day," Abby says honestly. Sincerity is shining in her eyes. "If there was any way that I could change what happened, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I can't. And I understand if you never forgive me for that. I'm not sure I can forgive myself."

"I'm trying," Clarke says honestly.

"I can wait," Abby says with a sad but grateful smile.

Voices sound out in the hallway then, and they both look up toward the door. It sounds like Kane and Bellamy arguing.

"But I'm not sure they can," Abby says drily.

She gives Clarke another small smile before shifting her legs so she can get up. Clarke pushes herself up off the floor and holds out a hand to help her mother to her feet. Then they both stand there for a second, just looking at each other. Finally Abby reaches out and brushes a strand of hair behind Clarke's ear.

"You're going to be okay," she says softly. Clarke swallows hard and forces a nod. She's not okay yet. Not by a mile. Neither of them is. But it's a start, and for now that will have to be enough.

Abby squares her shoulders and glances toward the door. Octavia's voice has now been added to the noise outside. The natives are clearly getting restless.

"You ready?" Abby asks.

"As I'll ever be," Clarke says. Her face is dry and her shoulders are straight, leaving her red eyes as the only sign of her breakdown. Abby gives her an encouraging smile and then starts around the table to the door. She's almost there when Clarke suddenly calls, "Mom?"

"Yes?" Abby says, turning around with a concerned expression. Clarke hesitates a moment as if fishing for words.

"I'm glad you made it to the ground okay," she says finally. It's a sort of olive branch, both "I'm sorry" and "I love you" rolled into one careful statement. Not exactly the high point of their relationship, but definitely a start. It brings a warm smile to Abby's face.

"I'm glad you made it home," she replies.

The noise outside the door is steadily growing louder, nearing a full-fledged fight.

"You should probably let them in before Bellamy gets himself arrested," Clarke says. Her tired tone and serious expression cause the joke to fall flat, but it's still a good sign.

Abby reaches out and opens the door. Kane and Bellamy are standing just outside in the middle of a heated debate, but they both stop midsentence as the door opens. Octavia and Major Byrne are standing just beyond them, clearly trying to calm down the two men.

"We're ready," Abby says.

Bellamy pushes past Kane with a glare and steps into the room. Octavia is close behind him, though she doesn't spare Kane so much as a glance. Major Byrne files in next with a concerned look at Abby, and then Kane brings up the rear.

"How is she?" he asks quietly.

"Hurting," Abby says honestly. "But she's strong. She'll pull through."

Clarke is standing over by the table with her hand on the back of one of the chairs. Octavia speeds up when she sees her, rounding the table ahead of Bellamy.

"Hey," she says as she wraps her arms around Clarke. The two of them hug each other tightly like best friends who have known each other their whole lives. Bellamy stops beside the two girls, patiently waiting his turn as he keeps watch over the two closest people in his life. Suddenly the three of them look to Abby remarkably like a small family. Not for the first time she finds herself feeling like an outsider in her daughter's life.

"I'm so sorry," Octavia says sincerely into Clarke's hair. "I should've been there. I could've gone with you to talk to the commander."

"There wasn't anything you could do," Clarke tells her as the two of them let go of each other. "There wasn't anything anyone could do."

"Hey, you saved him," Octavia says firmly. "You did. He would've known that."

Clarke gives her a weak smile before turning to Bellamy.

"Hey, princess," he says softly.

He sounds unsure, almost like he can't decide if he should speak or not. But something about those words must get to Clarke, because she suddenly reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck as if she'll never let go. Bellamy returns the hug with only the slightest of hesitation. Clarke leans her head against his shoulder as if trying to hide her face, and Abby wonders if she's going to start crying again. Then Bellamy bends his head down and whispers something that makes Clarke nod into his shoulder.

Suddenly the moment feels far too private for Abby to be observing. She looks away, noticing with faint amusement that Byrne is pointedly looking everywhere but at the hugging. Kane, by contrast, is watching it all with sad eyes as if he's just now realized exactly how much they've been through. Octavia too is watching her brother and Clarke with a sad expression that says there is definitely something going on here that the adults don't understand. Abby wonders if it has something to do with Finn. She's heard him call Clarke that same nickname before. Maybe that's why it affected Clarke so.

She and Bellamy finally let go of each other, ending the tender moment.

"How's Raven?" Clarke asks as she reaches up to wipe at her eyes, which are once again damp. Bellamy's own eyes are dry, but his weathered expression makes it clear that Finn's loss is affecting him too.

"Asleep in medical," he informs her. "They gave her something to knock her out. It'll be a while before she wakes up. I've got Monroe keeping an eye on her."

"What about you?" Octavia asks in concern, laying a hand on Clarke's arm.

"I've been better," Clarke says honestly. She looks down at the ground and swallows hard. "I don't know how to do this without him."

Abby feels a twinge of envy that Clarke is so readily telling the Blake siblings about emotions that Abby had to force out of her. The two of them have always had a strained relationship, but now it seems that a chasm has sprung up between them. Bridging that chasm is obviously going to take a lot of work.

"We're gonna get through this," Octavia says firmly.

Clarke gives Octavia a weak smile. She takes a deep breath and lets it out, seeming to pull herself together. Then she turns to the table and puts her hand on the back of the chair.

"Right now we need to focus on rescuing our people from Mount Weather," she says to all of them gathered around the table. "That's what Finn would want."

While a discussion of possible attack scenarios begins to range across the table, Abby finds herself looking across at Clarke, Bellamy, and Octavia. Suddenly she's struck by how much they look like battle-hardened soldiers. Raven was right. They're not children anymore. The kids they used to be are gone, obliterated by the ground. Their innocence has been stripped away, and it can never be reclaimed. Clarke may have spoken in anger, but she had a point. The council's decision is to blame for everything that's happened to these kids. And Abby played a part in that. That means at least part of this is her fault.

_I am become death, the destroyer of worlds. _

As ludicrous as the comparison sounds, Abby wonders if maybe she understands now a bit of what Oppenheimer must have felt when he spoke those words. The decision to send the hundred to Earth may have saved the rest of the Ark, but it destroyed these kids. Abby knows that it was the right call. She knows that the sacrifice had to be made for the good of everyone else aboard the Ark. She knows that in her head. But in her heart she's not sure if she'll ever be able to forgive herself.

* * *

><p>So what did you think? Please take a sec to leave me a quick review. It would mean a lot to me. Also, if you enjoyed this story, feel free to check out my other two stories for this fandom - "A Piece in Their Game" (Abby's views on the six members of the 100 in Camp Jaha expressed as a chess analogy) and "Ye Who Enter Here" (Bellamy's thoughts on the end of 2x08 and what it means for the rest of them, especially Clarke). Thanks for reading!<p> 


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